


our sunlit dreams unfolding

by skyclectic



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, cheesy pickup lines, mentions of 2yeon, mentions of najeongmomi, super sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:53:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25256461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyclectic/pseuds/skyclectic
Summary: Over the heads of all the other customers, she sees Jihyo join the end of the line. It takes far too long but Sana always believes that good things come to those who wait patiently. Like a rainbow lighting the sky after a thunderstorm. Or Jihyo, stepping up to the counter and beaming up at Sana in a way that’s infinitely more mesmerising.-----Or the one where Jihyo is a lawyer with a broken coffee machine and Sana is the barista she keeps coming back to.
Relationships: Minatozaki Sana/Park Jisoo | Jihyo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 230





	our sunlit dreams unfolding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonrise31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrise31/gifts).



> happy birthday, caroline! thank you for being a great friend, and the best beta-reader ever. may your encounters with any baristas from now on be just as sickeningly sweet as this <3

you give me an apartment full of morning smells - toasted bagel and black coffee and freckled lillies in the vase on the windowsill.  
 _\--catalogue of ephemera, rebecca lindenburg_

/

The clock on her kitchen wall tells her it’s nearing two in the morning. Jihyo's eyes are burning from the effort of fighting against the sands of sleep clinging to her eyelids. It’s only when she puts her pen (a limited edition Montblanc engraved with her initials — a gift from Mina when Jihyo made partner at their firm) down that Jihyo feels the flood of exhaustion wash over her; settling in the spaces between her bones and clouding her mind, already muddied from the lack of caffeine. 

With a sigh, Jihyo tidies her notes back into her briefcase. She tucks her pen into the zippered pocket at the side before reaching for her mug of hot chocolate that’s gone lukewarm now. She _hates_ hot chocolate. There’s only a stash in her cupboard because Nayeon has a sweet tooth and tends to complain very loudly about the lack of her favourite drink whenever she drops by with Jeongyeon. 

It takes a huge amount of restraint to not chuck the disgustingly sweet chocolate at her broken coffee machine instead. What was the damn _point_ of paying half her salary for a machine that was just going to break down barely a year later?

With another sigh, Jihyo dumps her mug in the sink. Bbuyo brushes against her leg when she opens the door to her bedroom. Jihyo chuckles, picking him up and rubbing her face into his soft fur. She lets him settle beside her on the bed, purring up a storm as he curls up against her.

As she gets comfortable under the covers, Jihyo makes a mental note to grab coffee before her trial tomorrow. 

She’s still trying to map out from memory the nearest cafe to the courthouse when she closes her eyes. The thought carries her far into the territory of sleep, taking Jihyo down the well-worn path of a familiar dream.

  
  


She’s at the beach again. Her feet sink into soft sand. The sound of the waves breaking against the shore echoes the steady thrum of her heart. The sun rays are warm against her skin, and everything around her burns white gold. 

Like always, Jihyo walks to the other end of the beach, As if drawn by a magnetic force too powerful to resist. Her eyes make out a familiar shape, like there’s someone waiting for her. With every step she takes, Jihyo closes the distance between them. Her heartbeat is thundering in her ears now. Just a few more steps and she’ll be able to see, to find out who it is that has been patiently waiting for her every time she’s lost in this dream.

But the sun blazes without consideration, without mercy. Everything around her is too bright. Everything burns white. And Jihyo only catches brief flashes of colour: the hem of a sundress flapping in the wind, the glint of sunlight catching on locks of brown hair, and the curved edge of a smile so iridescent it rivals the blinding glow of the sun.

And then like always, she startles awake. Her heart is a rapid staccato against her ribs and she’s breathless, her air stolen away by a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. The same one that lingers in her mind when Jihyo tries to fall asleep again — a stubborn mark, an inked stain that refuses to release its hold on her and lights her dreams again. 

/

Winter in Seoul has always been unforgiving. Bitter cold chases after Jihyo as she walks briskly down the street, in search of somewhere to get her caffeine fix. Every one of her exhales linger in a shapeless cloud before dissolving, carried away by the frosty wind. Shivering slightly, Jihyo tucks her hands into her coat pockets, fingers curling around the heat packs Mina gave her earlier. The warmth helps a little. Even though vines flowering with blossoms of regret have begun to creep up her spine. She really should have listened when Mina told her to just order coffee delivery instead of heading out.

Jihyo spots the familiar green of a Starbucks logo just a few metres away. She debates heading towards it but a part of her is unwilling to get in line for a cup of mediocre coffee. Instead, she turns into a side street, taking a shortcut to an area full of upscale art galleries and boutique restaurants.

If not for the chalkboard on the sidewalk (coffee, tea and cakes this way! → ) she would have missed it entirely — the small corner cafe, next to the vintage boutique. The sign above the door is covered with a plastic tarp. But the aroma of coffee is as good an invitation as any.

A tiny bell above the door rings as she pushes it open, eager for warmth and a cup of perfectly brewed coffee. Jihyo blinks as she steps inside, feeling completely wrong-footed and thrown off balance. It’s like crossing into the threshold of another world, one that’s a complete opposite of the harsh winter outside. 

Staring back at her is a bright mural on the wall. White-capped waves breaking on the expanse of a golden-hued shore. A cloudless cerulean sky and brilliant sun rays complete the mural. Adding on to the summer beach vibes is a surfboard propped up in the corner and a shelf with a couple of tropical plants on the other side of the mural. _Sweet Summer Day_ , reads a small canvas painting beside the potted plants.

Still mildly confused, Jihyo makes her way to the counter, walking past wooden tables that look like they've been repurposed from treated driftwood. There is no one at the counter so Jihyo rings the little bell and takes in more of the cafe as she waits.

From the beach mural to the driftwood tables to the spotlights shining down like warm sun rays against her skin, Jihyo feels like she’s on a tropical island. It pulls the memory of last night’s dream to the front of her mind and —

“Hi! I’m sorry for the wait,” a cheery voice greets. “What can I get for you today?”

Jihyo tears her gaze away from the colourful _lei_ hanging on the wall next to the menu. 

And then time comes to a complete standstill. Everything around her burns white gold. And Jihyo only catches brief flashes of colour. A glint of light catching on locks of brown hair. The curved edge of an iridescent smile. 

Her dream, somehow, impossibly, comes alive before her.

Her heart is thundering, beating a rapid staccato against her ribs. Jihyo can only stare breathlessly, air and words stolen from her in equal measure.

Jihyo manages to find her voice, just before the lingering silence turns awkward. “Just — just a latte, please.” 

The barista tilts her head, and there’s that heartbreakingly beautiful smile again. Jihyo wonders if anyone else has stood across from the person they see in their dreams, wondering as she is now, whether this is real or just an extension of the same dream. 

“What’s your name? And would you like this to go?”

Jihyo blinks. _Sana_ , reads the name tag pinned to the barista’s apron. A name and a face for her to match to the stranger that often lights up her dreams.

Sana. 

It’s like coming up for a breath of fresh air after being underwater her entire life. 

“Jihyo.” _And I dream about you._

  
  


Later, for reasons she cannot explain, Jihyo keeps the lid of her takeaway coffee cup. She wraps it up in a piece of tissue and tucks it into her bag.

She takes them home with her: the memory of Sana’s iridescent smile and the note she had scribbled on the lid underneath Jihyo’s name.

_I hope you like the coffee a latte! :)_

/

Nayeon wakes up with a start when she hears whimpering from the other side of the bed. She switches on the bedside lamp and warm light floods over their bed, washing over her wife, half-tangled in the bedsheets and thrashing slightly in her sleep.

“Hey.” Nayeon runs a gentle hand over messy blonde hair and cups a tear-stained cheek. “Jeongie, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

She wraps her other hand around Jeongyeon’s waist, smoothing circles over Jeongyeon’s hip when Jeongyeon wakes up with a gasp. Nayeon doesn’t let go, and doesn't protest the way Jeongyeon's fingers clutch desperately at her nightdress. She just waits patiently for the violent trembles to stop and for Jeongyeon’s breathing to even out.

Jeongyeon’s nightmares and sleep paralysis had mostly faded away years ago when they first moved in together. But sometimes, when she’s had a particularly exhausting or stressful day, they come back to haunt her again.

“You’re okay,” Nayeon repeats, pressing a kiss to Jeongyeon’s temple. 

With a shuddering sigh, Jeongyeon shifts closer and presses her forehead to Nayeon’s clavicle. “Sorry I woke you,” she rasps, voice hoarse and words feathering over Nayeon’s skin.

Nayeon doesn’t say a word. Just holds Jeongyeon close, sweeping her palm up and down Jeongyeon’s spine until her wife surrenders to sleep again. She follows not long after, falling asleep to the gentle rhythm of Jeongyeon’s quiet, even breathing. 

  
  


Nayeon wakes up with a start for the second time, just hours later, when she hears a sound from their kitchen. Blearily, Nayeon glances at the clock on the wall. _Seven am_. Definitely too early, which means it can only be one person. 

Jeongyeon doesn’t stir when Nayeon gets up, fast asleep on the other side of the bed. Nayeon takes the time to tuck the covers around her wife before she pulls a robe on and heads out of the bedroom.

A familiar figure sits at their kitchen table, staring absently into the steaming mug of coffee in front of her. She doesn’t notice when Nayeon steps into the kitchen, too lost in the wanderings of her own mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Nayeon keeps her voice light, but Jihyo startles anyway, the coffee sloshing all over the table.

Jihyo curses loudly, looking both flustered and frustrated. Nayeon’s forehead creases. She can count on one hand the number of times she’s heard Jihyo curse over the many years they’ve been friends. 

She opens the cabinet over the sink and grabs the first dish towel she sees. Jeongyeon will probably be mad when she wakes up to find her dish towel stained with coffee — Nayeon is pretty sure it’s not meant to be used for wiping up spills. But that’s a problem for later.

“What’s up with you?” Nayeon settles into a seat as Jihyo begins cleaning the table. “You don’t normally drop by this early.”

Jihyo freezes. Her fingers twist around the coffee-stained towel. Nayeon doesn’t push, just waits patiently for Jihyo to find her words.

“Have you… Have you ever met someone from your dreams before?”

Nayeon frowns at the question, unsure how to answer it and not quite able to follow Jihyo’s thoughts. It must show on her face because Jihyo blanches visibly and then fumbles to rephrase her question.

“I mean… Do you — Do you think it’s possible to meet someone from your dreams… in real life?”

“You mean like… meeting the girl of your dreams in real life?” Nayeon asks. As always, Jeongyeon and her crooked smile swims to the front of Nayeon’s mind. The one who runs through her mind in dreams and all her waking moments. The answer to every question Nayeon has ever had and will ever have. 

“Something like that, yeah.”

There’s a faraway look in Jihyo’s eyes that makes Nayeon's heart twinge. Makes her choose her next words carefully, hoping that they shape themselves into the answers Jihyo seems to be searching for.

“I think," she begins slowly, weighing every word. "Fate and dreams work in mysterious ways. Maybe you just keep having random dreams of them and then one day fate somehow brings you together. Or maybe you dream of them because you're already fated to meet one day. Nothing is impossible, even if it’s not always something ‘normal’ or something that we can understand.”

Jihyo is quiet. As if taking Nayeon's words in or perhaps drawing her own conclusions for the questions running through her mind that she doesn’t quite know how to articulate. 

“Thanks, unnie,” Jihyo finally says, offering Nayeon a small grateful smile. “Sorry I dropped by so early.”

“Don’t be silly,” Nayeon gets up and heads to the fridge, giving Jihyo’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she passes by. “Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs and —”

“I think not,” a voice cuts in, just before an arm wraps around her middle, preventing Nayeon from opening the fridge. “You’ll burn them.”

“I will _not_ ,” Nayeon protests, even as she sinks further into Jeongyeon’s embrace. Seeking the familiar warmth and comfort that only Jeongyeon can bring. 

She tries not to be too offended when both her wife and Jihyo snort in disbelief. After that one time she sliced strawberries with her knife upside down, neither of them has ever quite trusted her in the kitchen again.

“Fine.” She turns around and presses a brief kiss to the corner of Jeongyeon’s lips, catching the edges of a barely-suppressed smirk. She rolls her eyes in reply and Jeongyeon's grin only widens in a way that's impossibly endearing despite being completely annoying. “ _You_ can make breakfast, then.”

Jeongyeon hums, before turning to Jihyo and raising an eyebrow. “Scrambled eggs and mushroom stir-fry okay with you?” 

When Jihyo nods, Jeongyeon lets her hands fall away from the small of Nayeon’s back. She reaches around Nayeon and pulls the fridge open, taking out the tray of eggs, a packet of bacon and some mushrooms. Jihyo gets up too, stepping into place at the counter and reaching for the knife and cutting board. It's a well-practised routine by now — the two of them cooking side by side whenever Jihyo comes over and they decide to not order in.

Nayeon sits at the kitchen table, watching the love of her life — the one person that illuminates all her dreams — and her best friend start to bicker, their argument weaving over the sound of sizzling butter and the rhythmic beats of the knife hitting the surface of the cutting board.

/

Usually, when there are no customers waiting in line, Sana will spend her time cleaning the counter or the coffee machine. Today though, she’s far too distracted.

“If you stare at her any harder, your jaw is gonna drop right off,” Momo mutters, nudging Sana in the ribs as she passes by to refill the display with a batch of freshly baked cranberry scones.

Sana immediately grabs a rag and starts wiping down the counter. "I'm not."

She knows Momo can easily read through her though, no matter how hard she tries to act nonchalant and suppress the blush threatening to steal over her cheeks. 

“You should go take your break. Bring her a refill while you’re at it.”

“ _What_?”

“Just saying. She _is_ pretty hot.” Momo shrugs, then grins at Sana’s dumbstruck expression. “And you’ve been staring creepily ever since she stepped into the shop. So, just go _talk_ to her.”

  
  


“Jihyo-ssi?” Sana steps up to Jihyo’s table with a fresh cup of latte. She clears her throat so that Jihyo looks up from where she’s frowning down at the papers on the table. “I brought you a refill. On the house.”

“Uh — I…” Jihyo’s brow knits in confusion, but she takes the cup from Sana. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Do you mind if I sit? I usually sit here during my break and —”

“Oh, of course!” Jihyo cuts in, gesturing to the chair across from her. 

Sana sits and then worries her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to think of something to say that would not be too awkward or make Jihyo think she’s a complete creep.

In the end, it's Jihyo who breaks the silence first. She tilts her head at Sana, a teasing quirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “No note with the coffee today?” 

It’s Sana’s turn to have her forehead crease as her mind parses over Jihyo’s words. _Oh._

“Uh,” Sana begins, feeling heat rising up her face. She bites down on her bottom lip again and then confesses all at once. “I don’t normally write notes on the coffee cups...”

Jihyo blinks, bewilderment flickering over her face for just a second as she registers Sana's words. Sana can tell the moment it sinks in from the pretty shade of pink that settles across her face. She offers Sana a shy, bashful smile. “Thank you for writing one on mine, then. It —”

Jihyo breaks off, the red deepening in her cheeks and inching up to the tips of her ears. _Cute_ , Sana thinks as she drinks in the sight. 

“It made my day,” Jihyo admits, her own confession lingering in the space between them. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” Sana tries to ignore the way her heart skips a couple of beats at the way Jihyo is looking at her. Instead, she gestures at the piles of papers on the table. “If it helps you to get through your work, I can tell you another one?” 

Jihyo leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. Her little smile is a soft, tender thing. A gentle invitation for Sana to continue. 

Sana clears her throat. “Is your name Earl Grey? Because you look like a hot-tea.”

Jihyo blinks. Once. Twice. Then she laughs, leaning back in her chair, and smiles at Sana, eyes sparkling with mirth. Sana feels the Earth tilt on its axis for just a moment. Jihyo has a beautiful laugh and there’s a wild urge building in Sana’s chest — a selfish need to capture that laugh and keep it for herself.

“I don’t even drink tea,” Jihyo points out. But the strength of her smile doesn’t waver. “And you already know my name.”

Sana shrugs. Then throws Jihyo a small wink, like she's letting Jihyo in on a secret. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

That pretty blush steals over Jihyo’s face again. And the sight of Jihyo ducking her gaze shyly makes something beneath Sana’s ribs flutter recklessly.

There is so much she wants to say to Jihyo — an inexplicable desire to seize the spark of possibilities and new beginnings currently thrumming through her veins.

But the tiny bell over the door chimes. A melodic tune that Sana always looks forward to because customers mean business is going well. Now though, the sound wedges itself firmly between Sana and her longing to get to know the woman before her.

“I have to get back to work,” Sana says, getting to her feet reluctantly as the new customer heads right for the unmanned counter. “Will you drop by for coffee again tomorrow?”

Jihyo’s lips quirk ever so slightly. She picks up the latte Sana brought her with both hands, cradling the porcelain mug like a promise. “Maybe.”

  
  


/

Jihyo drops by again regularly over the next few weeks. Always on weekday mornings. Sometimes, she grabs a cup to go but there are times when she stays for an hour or so, enjoying a large mug of latte while she finishes up some work. Every single time though, Jihyo stops to talk to Sana, even if it’s just for a few minutes over the counter as Sana makes her coffee.

On one of the days, Jihyo shows up closer to lunch and orders a large mug of Earl Grey tea and a warm sandwich. Sana takes her break then, sitting with Jihyo as she eats her Bulgogi cheesesteak sandwich. She listens as Jihyo complains about one of her difficult clients and how challenging the trial would be. 

That’s when Sana finds out that Jihyo drives twenty minutes out of her way just to get her coffee at the cafe. Jihyo admits it so casually that Sana tries not to read too much into it. But it’s hard to ignore the way her heart stutters out of beat at the thought. 

When they say goodbye — Jihyo to the courthouse for her trial, and Sana back to man the counter — Sana repeats the cheesy Earl Grey hot tea pickup line, if only just to see Jihyo’s beautiful laugh again. 

/

A snowstorm blows in towards the middle of January, catching the entire city off guard on a weekend. Sana and Momo get to the cafe before dawn to avoid the worst of it. While Momo heads to the kitchen to bake, Sana wipes down the tables and prepares the coffee machine.

The morning passes by at a glacial pace as heavy snow keeps falling outside and collects on the patio. Unsurprisingly, nobody comes into the shop until around eleven when the little bell over the door chimes. Sana looks up from her phone to see Jihyo stamping her feet on the mat at the door.

Sana is aware that she's completely unable to keep the smile off her face. Then in the next second realises that she doesn't care. “What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

Jihyo unwraps the knitted grey scarf around her neck as she walks up to the counter. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the cold and there are snowflakes dissolving on the soft cascading locks of her hair. Which, Sana realises with a jolt, is a lovely shade of purple. She’s never seen Jihyo with her hair down before — Jihyo always had it up in a neat bun whenever she drops by, which Sana figures is proper etiquette for a lawyer, especially one who’s a partner at her firm. 

“I need to get some work done for a case and I didn’t really want to head to the office on a Sunday. So I thought I’d get my work done here.” Jihyo grins and waves _hi_ when Momo pops her head out of the kitchen at the sound of Jihyo’s voice. Then she turns back to Sana a hint of uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “You guys don’t mind right?” 

“Jihyo, you're even more of a regular than some of our regulars by now, okay? Of course, you're welcome anytime!” 

Jihyo's eyes crinkle, flickers of uncertainty dissolving into something like fond amusement in the face of Sana's overenthusiastic response.

“In that case, I'll have a —”

“A large mug of vanilla latte with an extra shot,” Sana cuts in, already turning away from the counter and reaching for a mug.

She turns back around and chuckles at the look on Jihyo’s face. “You always order that when you’re here to get work done. And when you’re in a rush to get back to the office or to the courthouse, you order a flat white to go. And even though you say you’re watching your diet, you always let me talk you into getting one of Momo’s scones and a bagel too because we both know when you’re rushing, you forget to eat and then get gastric pains.” 

Jihyo laughs, the tips of her ears tinged red with embarrassment, as she pulls out her loyalty card. “I’m impressed that you can remember all that. You must have hundreds of customers coming in every week.”

_But none of them are you_ , Sana wants to say. She swallows the words back down though because it doesn’t feel like the right time or place. When their tentative friendship (can it be called friendship?) sails into deeper waters, Sana wants to drink the moment in, with no coffee machine or wooden counter between them.

“I pay attention,” Sana says instead. Her breath catches when Jihyo’s expression softens. She ends up pressing the stamp in her hand half on Jihyo’s card and half on the wooden countertop. 

Her entire face is burning when she scrambles for a rag to wipe the ink stain away. But her heart is soaring, disappearing into a horizon coloured with the strength of Jihyo’s sunlit smile.

/

“After three months, the sign over the door is fixed and I finally know what the name of this cafe is,” Jihyo declares when she sweeps into the cafe on a sleepy Tuesday morning. 

“Oh, hey, good morning,” Sana calls out, before turning back to the bored-looking college girl standing in front of the counter.

Over the heads of all the other customers, she sees Jihyo join the end of the line. It takes far too long but Sana always believes that good things come to those who wait patiently. Like a rainbow lighting the sky after a thunderstorm. Or Jihyo, stepping up to the counter and beaming up at Sana in a way that’s infinitely more mesmerising. 

She’s holding her briefcase in the crook of her arm and has a pen tucked securely into the messy bun on her head. So, definitely not heading for a trial or to her office just yet then. 

“You’re early today.” Sana reaches for a large mug and then grabs the bottle of vanilla syrup to start preparing Jihyo’s drink. 

Jihyo just hums, leaning against the counter and watching Sana make her coffee. 

“So, it’s not a typo right?” Jihyo asks when Sana slides her drink across the counter. “Betty _Boo_?”

The question (and Jihyo wrinkling her nose in confusion) draws a bubble of laughter out of Sana’s chest. 

“You know that little girl — Boo — with the pigtails in Monsters, Inc?” Sana grins when Jihyo nods. “She’s Momo’s favourite.”

“Okay, but Betty…?”

Sana drops her elbows down onto the counter and feels a thrill run up her spine when Jihyo leans in a little closer.

“I have twenty different Betty Boop shirts in my wardrobe,” Sana admits, voice barely above a whisper. She giggles when Jihyo lets out a gasp, as if scandalised, because Jihyo’s warm brown eyes carry an ocean of fondness anyway.

“And the whole beach thing?” Jihyo gestures to the mural on the wall. “I’ve always wondered but keep forgetting to ask you.” 

Sana shrugs. “Momo and I go on a trip to Hawaii every summer. We thought we’d bring some of it back with us. Think of it as like… having Coffee on the Beach instead of —”

Sana breaks off abruptly when her brain catches up and she realises what exactly she’s about to say. 

Jihyo’s lips quirk and there’s heavy amusement dancing in her eyes now. “Good thing I like Sex on the Beach then.” 

By the time Sana’s brain stops short-circuiting, Jihyo is already halfway across the cafe with her vanilla latte. Sana can only stare mutely as Jihyo settles into her favourite seat at the table by the window, wondering if Jihyo meant for her words to drip like honey, wondering if Jihyo meant the cocktail or — 

/

Jihyo doesn’t show up at her usual time the next morning. Or the next day. Or the next. 

Sana’s heart sinks every time the tiny bell over the door chimes but it’s not Jihyo’s radiance and her warm greeting that shines through when the gentle tinkling fades away. 

The days pass by so slowly, it sets Sana’s teeth on edge. Or maybe it’s just her, frozen with longing as the rest of the world spins on, unaffected by Jihyo’s absence.

Finally, slightly more than a week later, Jihyo walks in at just a quarter after one in the afternoon. Her hair is up in a neat bun and Sana can see the collar of her blazer peeking out from underneath Jihyo’s unzipped padded jacket. 

“Hi.” Jihyo’s voice is tight as she steps up to the counter. There are dark shadows under her eyes, bleeding through the layer of makeup Jihyo has on. 

“Hey.” Sana keeps her voice light. She doesn’t ask where Jihyo has been the last week or so: it would be selfish to ask when Jihyo clearly looks like her edges are worn down by whatever case she must be currently handling at work. 

“Can I have a —”

“A flat white to go, coming right up.” Sana offers Jihyo a reassuring smile before she turns away to make Jihyo’s coffee.

“Thanks, Sana.” Jihyo’s smile is muted, barely reaching her eyes. 

When Sana slides the takeaway cup over the counter, Jihyo murmurs her goodbyes and heads for the door before Sana can respond. Sana stares at Jihyo’s retreating figure, growing more distant as she crosses the sidewalk and disappears around the corner.

Then, acting completely on impulse, Sana grabs a paper bag from under the counter and puts two cranberry scones, a bagel and a small tub of cream cheese inside.

“Momo-yah, I’ll be right back!” She yells in the direction of the kitchen, ignoring Momo’s questions and the stares of their other customers. 

  
  


“Jihyo!” Sana calls out when catches sight of Jihyo further down the street. 

Jihyo whips around and then watches Sana running towards her with her brows raised. “Sana?”

“You forgot this.” Sana holds out the paper bag, trying hard to catch her breath. It’s freezing outside and she’s shivering on the sidewalk in only her thin sweater. But Sana smiles at Jihyo anyway. “Your scones and bagel. They’re still warm.”

Jihyo’s eyes soften and she purses her lips, like she’s trying hard not to smile. “I didn’t order those.”

Sana winks. “No, but a certain die-hard Betty Boop fan told me to pass them to you anyway.”

“Is that right?” Jihyo’s definitely not trying to hold back her smile now. “I must remember to thank them in person.”

“You can do that whenever you drop by for coffee again.”

At the mention of dropping by for coffee, Jihyo’s smile falters. She reaches out to take Sana’s hand in hers. It’s freezing outside but Jihyo’s fingers tangled with her own gives off the kind of warmth that reminds Sana of sweet summer days.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been coming in. It’s this case — I’ve been working until 3am every day and I still think I’m going to lose because it’s impossible to win and —”

“If anyone can do the impossible, it’s _you_ , Park Jihyo-ssi,” Sana interrupts gently, squeezing Jihyo’s hand before pressing the bag into Jihyo’s other hand. “Will you take them? I know you probably haven’t eaten and I’m not letting you skip lunch again today.” 

Jihyo bites her lip, staring down at her shoes for a long moment. When she looks up again, her eyes are heavy with an emotion Sana can’t quite seem to place. She takes the bag from Sana. “Thank you.” 

They stand there for a moment, rooted in place while the rest of the world passes them by. Sana feels like she should say something else. There are shapeless syllables, trying to form themselves into words in her head. Because Jihyo is looking at Sana like she’s waiting for something. Or like she’s trying to piece together something in her mind. Something important.

But then, Jihyo clears her throat.

“I really do have to go. The appeal hearing will start soon and Mina will kill me if I show up late.”

“Of course.” Sana takes a step back, letting go of Jihyo’s hand. It’s silly but she misses the warmth already. And feels incomplete without it. “See you around?”

Jihyo’s smile blooms tentatively. A tender promise that unfurls like the first day of spring after harsh winter months. 

“See you around, Sana.” 

/

It’s almost midnight when Sana finally gets into bed. She stares unseeingly at the flickering shadows on the ceiling from the silvery moonlight. Her mind is stubbornly stuck on the sidewalk, on the feel of Jihyo’s hand in hers.

She replays the moment so many times that she falls asleep to the sound of Jihyo’s voice ( _see you around, Sana_ ), slipping into a dream that’s full of Jihyo and everything her heart desires.

  
  


Sana removes the dried flowers from the vase on the living room table and replaces it with the fresh lilies she bought earlier on her way home. She smiles to herself when she hears the sound of the front door. Sana waits, counting down the seconds in her own head before arms wrap around her middle and a kiss is pressed to her cheek. 

“What’s for dinner?” Her lover’s words feather over her cheek, drawing a giggle out of Sana’s chest at the sensation. 

She turns around so she can steal a quick _welcome home_ kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jihyo echoes, leaning in again so _she_ can steal another kiss. 

“Momo made avocado salad for our lunch at the shop earlier. I brought home the leftovers. Ordered your favourite spicy chicken feet too.” 

Sana’s heart skips a beat, and then melts completely when Jihyo’s face lights up. She’s beaming at Sana, looking up at her with eyes crinkled into crescents of joy. Like Sana is the most wondrous thing she has ever seen. Like Sana is offering her the moon, or the entire universe.

“I love you, you know that right?”

Sana tips her forehead against Jihyo’s own and whispers her words into the small span of distance between them. “I know.”

  
  


Sana startles awake, heart racing in her chest. The dream was so vivid and felt too real to only be a figment of her imagination. She can still almost feel the shape of Jihyo’s lips against her own, can still perfectly picture Jihyo’s crescent-eyed smile in her mind.

Everything feels too real: a dream conjured from the budding hope sinking its roots deep in her heart. The hope that maybe, what she dreams of will come true one day. That maybe, if luck and fate is on her side, she’ll find herself in a house they’ve made into a home, waiting to welcome Jihyo with a sweet kiss. 

She falls asleep again with Jihyo’s voice from her dream lingering in her mind. _I love you, you know that right?_

/

Mina isn’t surprised when she sees the light on in the room at the end of the corridor. Jihyo never leaves work early, always too caught up in her cases to remember that the rest of the world exists outside her office.

As expected, Jihyo doesn’t even look up when Mina enters the room. She stands on the threshold for a moment, watching her oldest friend frown at the papers in front of her. 

“Why do you look so bothered?” Mina asks after Jihyo lets out a long exhale. She steps into the room and puts the box in her hands on Jihyo’s desk. “It was an impossible case but you _won_. You managed to save an innocent man from having to spend the rest of his life behind bars. You should be celebrating, Jihyo-yah.”

Jihyo tears her gaze away from her case papers and shoots Mina a weary smile. “I just want to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“You didn’t,” Mina reassures without missing a beat. She knows how hard Jihyo is on herself even though there’s no real reason to be. “You covered all the bases. And you were perfect in the courtroom too. So, stop worrying okay?” 

“Thanks, Minari.” 

She smiles when Jihyo raises a questioning eyebrow at the box on her desk. “It’s a coffee machine. I know you haven’t had time to get a replacement for your broken one yet. So I got you one when I was ordering a new batch of coffee for myself.” 

“Oh.” 

Mina frowns when Jihyo doesn’t say anything else. She’s even more puzzled when she registers the expression on Jihyo’s face. Like she’s _disappointed_? 

“Now you won’t have to go out of your way to that cafe to get your coffee again.” Mina tries. Maybe Jihyo didn’t quite understand what Mina’s giving her?

“Yeah, I guess.” Jihyo’s smile is tight. It barely reaches her eyes. 

Before Mina can say anything else, she stands abruptly. Mina watches, utterly lost now as Jihyo strides over to the coat rack in the corner and puts on her coat. 

“I have to go.” Jihyo grabs her car keys and then pulls the door open. She pauses just before stepping outside, turning back to look at Mina.

“I’ll explain more later but… I don’t think I need the coffee machine. I’ll try to get a refund for you. Thanks Minari for making me realise that —” Jihyo shakes her head, words trailing off as her mind wanders away to places Mina cannot follow. “Just…thank you.” 

/

The streets are almost deserted by the time Jihyo pulls into a parking lot a few streets away from the Betty Boo Cafe. No one really wants to be out when it’s snowing this heavily. 

Pulling her coat tighter around her, Jihyo walks briskly down the street. She has no idea whether the cafe is still open, whether Sana is still there or already headed home for the night. Maybe she should have called ahead to check but Jihyo knows that if she did, she would have lost the nerve completely.

The lights are dim by the time Jihyo gets to the cafe. Her heart sinks but then a shard of hope makes it soar again when she tries the door and it opens for her.

“Hello?” 

A startled yelp sounds from the kitchen and then Momo appears, brandishing a large saucepan in her hands. 

“Hi,” Jihyo greets awkwardly as Momo lowers her weapon and squints in her direction.

“Jihyo-ssi?” 

“Yeah, I uh — Hi.” Jihyo winces when Momo’s brows knit in confusion. She can’t quite figure out how to articulate the overwhelming tangle of emotions lodged beneath her breastbone. 

Some of it must show on her face because Momo’s expression clears and a glint shines in her eyes instead. Like she understands exactly why Jihyo is standing in their cafe after closing hours. “Sana’s just taking out the trash in the back. Can you tell her to lock up? I’ll head home first.”

“Okay,” Jihyo manages weakly, because Sana’s voice calls out for Momo from somewhere inside the kitchen and her heart has started to beat wildly in her chest.

With a knowing smile, Momo leaves, squeezing Jihyo’s shoulder gently as she passes by.

“Momo-yah, are you ready to — oh.” 

“Hi,” Jihyo offers, wondering if her entire vocabulary has somehow been reduced to a single word. She clears her throat and takes bold steps across the room until she’s right in front of a bewildered Sana. “I just — I had a question. About coffee.”

Sana tilts her head uncertainly, eyes searching Jihyo’s face for answers. “Oh. Do you want me to make you a new drink to try because Momo just ordered this new blend of —”

“No,” Jihyo cuts in, reaching out to take Sana’s hand. A thrill runs up her spine. The same spark she felt when Sana’s fingers latched onto hers on the sidewalk the other day. “I meant — I wanted to ask if… if you wanted to get coffee sometime? I mean... someplace other than the coffee shop?”

Sana blinks. Once. Twice. The silence stretches uncomfortably. Jihyo’s heart is in her throat and she doesn’t dare to move, to say anything because what if Sana doesn’t —

“Is dinner tomorrow night okay?” 

Jihyo squeezes Sana’s hand, as relief and euphoria washes over her in relentless waves. “That sounds perfect.”

Sana’s lips quirk, her eyes carrying the kind of sparkle that makes Jihyo want to give her the stars, or maybe the entire universe. 

“Good,” Sana murmurs just before she leans in and tips her forehead against Jihyo’s own. A question and a new beginning all at once. “Can I —”

Jihyo doesn’t let her finish, surging forward and closing the distance between them. Sana lets out a little surprised squeak but then she kisses Jihyo back and it’s sweeter than anything Jihyo could have ever imagined. 

/

Jihyo wakes up slowly, drawn awake by the sunlight falling across her face and the smell of coffee. Still sleep-drunk, she stretches, feeling her muscles burn. Memories of last night flash through her mind and Jihyo finds herself suddenly wide awake.

She turns to the empty space beside her, running her hand over sheets that still smell like Sana. Her heart blossoms as a smile steals over her face. She’s still smiling when she washes up in the bathroom, barely recognising herself in the mirror. She looks like a different person: someone who has been changed forever by the presence of another. 

The smell of coffee grows stronger as Jihyo makes her way down the hall to her kitchen. There’s a takeaway bag on the kitchen table; Sana must have dropped by the cafe to grab coffee for them when she woke up earlier. There is a tub of cream cheese and toasted bagels too, fresh from the oven and smelling absolutely divine. 

And then her gaze finds Sana, standing near the living room window, her back to Jihyo as she watches dappled sun rays catch on fresh green leaves outside. Sana’s dressed in only her oversized Betty Boop shirt and she’s cradling Bbuyo in her arms, stroking his chin absentmindedly. Bbuyo, from what Jihyo can see, looks absolutely at peace in Sana’s arms. 

“Good morning,” Jihyo calls softly, coming around the couch and resting a hand on the small of Sana’s back. 

Sana leans into the touch, like she had been expecting it all along. Gently, she lets Bbuyo jump out of her arms. She giggles when he lands on the nearby coffee table and almost knocks over the vase of freckled lillies Sana brought over the other day _because I love the way you smile whenever I give you flowers, Jihyo-yah._

Sana is still giggling when Jihyo leans in to kiss her _good morning_. And Jihyo can’t help but marvel at the wondrous miracle of everything. At the way her dreams came to life, at the way Sana is real and _here_ and not a figment of her imagination.

When Jihyo pulls away, Sana’s smiling at her. That heartbreakingly beautiful smile Jihyo sees every time she falls asleep. Iridescent and lighting up Jihyo’s life in shades of colour she never knew she was missing until now.

Sana leans in to kiss her again. Soft and sweet. She tastes like sunshine, like happiness, like every one of Jihyo’s sunlit dreams unfolding.

**Author's Note:**

> @skyclectic on twitter and curious cat.
> 
> so, come drop by to say hi or share your thoughts or ask me anything, really. <3


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